


tender moments under this roof

by icemachine



Category: Doom Patrol (TV)
Genre: M/M, chaos and mischief
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-06
Updated: 2021-01-06
Packaged: 2021-03-16 15:22:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28584195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icemachine/pseuds/icemachine
Summary: Tyme simply passes him. He reaches into their refrigerator and retrieves a carton of eggs. He waves a singular egg in front of Larry’s face, taunts him, he shouldn’t feel so—“I need those for pancakes,” Larry says, but it’s weak and drenched in a fluster. Damn him.“Oh, don’t worry, we won’t use all of them,” Tyme tells him; it’s not reassuring in the slightest. “Now, where is this Chief’s bedroom, hm?”(Tyme and Larry egg Niles' room.)
Relationships: Jonathan Tyme/Larry Trainor
Kudos: 9





	tender moments under this roof

**Author's Note:**

> from a tumblr prompt

“And then,” Larry says, the words flowing out of him uncontrollable, _why is Larry telling him this, he’s not —_

“And then?”

“And then he said that he did this to me,” Larry finishes; Tyme perceives the anger in his voice, the trickling fury of Larry Trainor’s words, the inherent sadness bursting within them. “He’s the reason why my body’s burnt. He’s the reason I have the Spirit.” His voice breaks, a fall shattering into scattered pieces, cutting against their skins, their own bodies. “He did it on purpose.” Pause. He tries to compose himself, tries to bring himself to a state mocking togetherness. “Sorry, I don’t know why I’m telling you this.”

Larry doesn’t expect an apology, nor does he expect pity or clemency. Men like Jonathan Tyme are not accustomed to those concepts; he processes this, he _knows_ the differences in their morality, yet he stays anyway, enamored. He even almost expects Tyme to _laugh,_ unpredictable even after all this time, expects him to lose interest and bury it—-

He expects many things. He does not expect Tyme to take his hand.

“You know, baby,” says Tyme, and Larry wobbles in his skates, “I haven’t been outside of this dimension in _so_ long. And you know I could skate with you forever, but man, it gets boring every once in a while.”

Inside of goggles, Larry blinks. “So?”

Tyme twirls Larry in a sudden flash of movement. The mineral in his head glows, glimmers starlight, as he _dips_ Larry, his face edging so _close,_ his body safe and perfect against Tyme’s protective grip—

and then, with a snap of Tyme’s gloved fingers, they’re back in the manor. Larry releases himself to analyze his surroundings — they’re in the kitchen, the refrigerator is wide open, and being out of Tyme’s grasp leaves the ghost of a feeling similar to _emptiness and yearning._ He looks away, looks back at Tyme — a question in the form of a nod, a gesture.

Tyme simply passes him. He reaches into their refrigerator and retrieves a carton of eggs. He waves a singular egg in front of Larry’s face, taunts him, _he shouldn’t feel so—_

“I need those for pancakes,” Larry says, but it’s weak and drenched in a fluster. Damn him.

“Oh, don’t worry, we won’t use all of them,” Tyme tells him; it’s not reassuring in the slightest. “Now, where is this Chief’s bedroom, hm?”

Larry doesn’t move. 

“It’ll make you feel better.”

Larry sighs in a message: _you’re right,_ his sigh says _you’re right,_ his sigh breathes exposure as he turns to lead the way. “Follow me.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


+

  
  
  
  
  


“I don’t know if I can do this,” Larry says. The door opens, and they walk through it, Tyme disappearing behind him, unknowable---“He’s dying, anyway. Do we have to —- is this really—”

He’s interrupted when he feels a hand snake around his hips. Another hand presses an egg into his own hand. Somehow there is breath against his neck, _oh._ “I know you can do it,” Tyme says, but his voice is darker now, increasingly alluring. “I believe in you, baby.”

Larry inhales.

He throws the egg. It lands in Niles’ closet, wetting several shirts. 

It _does_ make him feel better. Tyme holds him closer, pulling him in from behind.

Larry grabs another egg. Beneath bandages, he grins.

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> :)


End file.
